Underdog
by xx Bewitching x3
Summary: Chlerek "You're not a monster or a villian. But that doesn't mean you're an extra either." He stared at me. "So what am I? What do they call my character in the movies, Chloe? Not exactly leading guy material here." "But you are the leader." Extended :D
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: I don't own the Darkest Powers series. -depressed sigh-_

**A/N**: I found the Darkest Powers series totally on accident one day while looking through the YA section at the library. Couldn't find what I was looking for, and the story line sounded good, so I got both books. The Verdict: I am crazy in love with this series. Such a godsend, as I am obsessed with werewolves at the moment, lol.

That being said, you can totally guess where this is going, right? Yepp: Chlerek. Short and sweet, maybe a two-parter if anyone has an idea how to continue…? -poke poke nudge nudge- ^^, But for now, I like how it stands. x)

Anyway, this starts off from the end of The Awakening, after they arrive at the safe house. I've read the chapters up from The Reckoning, but this is just cleaner if we ignore that, mmkay? :) It also ignores the very last chapter of The Awakening (when Chloe falls into a deep sleep), but I think it still plays, considering what was going on.

Point is, I had a lot of fun writing this, and it gave me something to do before The Reckoning comes out, lol. So… enjoy or destroy. Flames will be used to bake cookies for the constructive critics. ;) - Christine

---

**Underdog  
**_by Bewitching_

---

"Ew," Tori said under her breath the next morning, then louder, "What is _that?_"

Simon looked at us from his spot by the counter, where he was throwing together the best breakfast he could. The kitchen looked like it hadn't been touched since the Victorian Age, and the fridge definitely hadn't been filled since the Stone Age, but Simon had some eggs, milk, and almost-stale cereal to work with. His light eyebrows tipped into a frown. "Breakfast. If you don't like it, I can always give yours to Derek."

"So you mean there's no kibble for the dog here either? Great. Just great. We'll be starving by the end of the day." Tori stomped over to the table and sat in front of one of five plates of eggs. After poking at it with her fork, she glanced back at me. "C'mere, try this. If he poisoned it, we can afford to lose you."

I rolled my eyes. Why was she so difficult? Simon was just being nice. He didn't have to do anything for anyone, much less her. "Thanks, Simon," I said, ignoring Tori as I sat down at another plate. "It looks delicious."

"More like 'barely edible', but anything hot and homemade sounds delicious by now," he said, grinning. He took the seat beside me, a bruised apple to go with his food. Tori waited for me to take a bite -- not gourmet, but definitely good -- and then she began eating in silence.

Andrew came into the safe house's kitchen a while later, looking surprised. "Wow, didn't expect you all to be up. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a rock," Tori replied. "Chloe woke me up when she heard Emeril here banging around in the kitchen. What time is it anyway?"

"About seven," Simon and Andrew replied at the same time. They laughed. Then Andrew looked around, realizing something was missing. Or rather, someone. "Hey, where's Derek?"

"He went for a run while I made breakfast," Simon said.

"Oh. Not far, right?" Andrew had paused in by his food, a concoction of concern and something else on his face. Annoyance? It was too early to guess.

"Right here, Andrew," Derek said. We all turned to face the back door, which framed Derek, his face covered a light sheen of sweat. I tensed at the sight, wondering if he was Changing again, but settled when Derek sat down at the table. He wouldn't risk being near us if a Change was coming. "Thanks, Simon," he murmured, gesturing to his eggs: a much bigger share than the rest of us. Simon smiled.

"No problem, bro."

"Derek," Andrew said. He still hadn't sat down. "I'd prefer it if you let me know when you're leaving the house. It's dangerous out there, especially for--"

"I can handle it, Andrew," Derek said warily. "I was just checking the area out. I stayed out of sight."

"If they were to catch you--" Andrew started, but thought better of it. Derek nodded, understanding, but kept eating.

"I'll let you know next time," he said, between mouthfuls.

Andrew sighed. Tori was moving on to her cereal, a knock off of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and Simon was calmly taking bites from his apple. The table was seriously cramped, especially with Derek's imposing frame perched between Simon and Tori, and suddenly I felt claustrophobic. Technically, I'd been feeling that way all night.

"Can I go for a walk?" I asked Andrew, whose face immediately darkened.

"I don't think--"

"I'll go with her," Simon said, tossing the apple's core over the table and into the wastebasket: two points. "I'm done anyway."

"I'd rather go by myself," I said, trying not to brush Simon off, even though that was exactly what I was doing. I wanted fresh air and quiet more than anything at the moment. "I need some alone time, I guess."

"How cliché," Tori snorted.

"Victoria, keep the sarcasm to a minimum, please. We have enough to worry about." Andrew looked at me, directly across the table. "Which is exactly why I'm not comfortable with any of you leaving the house. They could still be canvassing the woods. I'm not going to take chances with you. Any of you." He stared pointedly at Simon, and then at Derek, emphasizing his glare by setting down his fork. "I know you guys are probably still a little wound up from being on the run, but you're safe now. _Inside_. And we're going to stay that way as long as possible. Deal?"

The four of us nodded, but my restlessness just grew. I pushed away my empty dishes, "I'll be in the shower," and left the kitchen.

"Don't use all the hot water!" Tori called after me, but if I could guess, there wouldn't be any hot water left to begin with. Derek's hair was still damp with it.

-

I was right. The water was cold, but if I jiggled the knobs the right way, I could get a lukewarm stream down my back. I spent the first ten minutes scrubbing all the street and forest out of my skin, and then attacked my hair, but only a small amount of dye trickled down the drain. Looks like I'd be going Goth for a little while longer.

The claw foot tub looked like it needed a scrubbing, but I didn't care about stuff like that at the moment. I sat down, then stood, then turned off the water and got out. I had wanted to sit beneath the shower head, but even a second of stillness had my heartbeat racing. I wanted out, I wanted to go get Aunt Lauren and Rae. I couldn't just sit here. I'd spent all night tossing in bed, barely sleeping, thinking about Aunt Lauren, and what I'd seen in the forest, trying to resist the urge to summon her. Part of me wanted to know if she was alive, but the rest was scared to find out. If she was dead, what then?

When I was dressed, I went back down the kitchen. Everyone was gone, the dishes in the sink, still dirty. I practically threw myself at them, desperate to have something to do with my hands. I was just starting when a finger tapped me on the shoulder.

I jumped, almost flinging a plate to the floor, and backed against the sink. Then I sighed. It was just Derek.

"Dishes, huh?" he asked, a bored mask hiding the anxiety I knew was there. He'd taken off too; he was just as restless. It also probably hid some smirking amusement at making me jump. "Best I could find was a dust rag. Hate dusting."

"Would you please stop scaring the wits out of me? I don't have much left." I turned my back on him and started scrubbing the tiny bits of burnt egg from an old pan.

Derek mumbled something, and I glanced back. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "Can I help? I..." He flexed his hands. "I need the distraction."

Our eyes met, and the tension eased, if only slightly. I nodded, passing him the pan and a dish towel. "I wash, you dry."

We did the dishes in silence, letting the moment last as long as possible. What else was there to do? I scrubbed every speck of anything off the plates, bowls, cups, and he mopped up every drop of water, tucking them away in the cabinets. It helped to have something to do, but I felt out of place again. When does the heroine ever pause to do dishes? When does she ever sit back and hide when she has people to rescue?

"I think it's done," he muttered, waiting for me to hand him the last cup. The sponge was wearing out beneath my fingers as I stared out the window above the sink, the edge of the forest both comforting and scary, calling and warning all at once. I blinked a few times, and handed him the mug.

"Sorry."

He didn't say anything, just dried. Then he opened a cabinet and put it away. When the door snapped shut, my composure snapped to pieces.

"I can't t-take it," I blurted, hurling the sponge into the empty sink. "Just s-sitting around, doing n-n-nothing, waiting for the other s-s-s-shoe to fall..." I trailed off, pacing around the island.

"You were up all night," he said calmly, and I didn't have to ask how he knew. He'd probably heard me sighing impatiently and pacing in my room in the middle of the night. Stupid super-senses. "Go get some sleep."

"Did _you_ sleep?" I countered, seeing the dark patches beneath his eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it, and glanced out the window. I nodded. "Exactly. So let's just pretend you never said that, or I'll have to go into a huge lecture about not preaching a rulebook you can't even follow--"

"Have you tried?" he asked suddenly. I had gone back to pacing, but now I faced him. He was staring at me from under his curtain of shaggy hair, one eyebrow raised. "Have you tried summoning your aunt?"

I blinked, and exhaled. My feathers were still a little ruffled though, so I didn't mind being short with him. "No, I haven't. Why is it any of your business?"

He chewed on his lip before jerking his chin toward the living room. "Andrew's got the others playing a card game. Simon was going to keep them at it for awhile so I could go for another run." He turned his ear to the room, listening. "They're still busy. We could try summoning your aunt instead."

"Andrew said--"

"I know what he said," Derek said, already striding for the door. "I understand the concern. But we won't go far, and I want to know the area in case--"

"In case we have to make a quick get away?" I mumbled.

He nodded, carefully twisting the doorknob and stepping onto the back steps. "You coming?"

"I don't think--"

"Okay," he said, and left. The door almost swung into its frame, and I grabbed it before it slammed and gave him away.

My eyes traveled to the living room door, angled just so I couldn't see the others sitting there. But someone burst into laughter -- Simon -- and I took a deep breath, stepping outside. I could get away with this for a little bit. Simon had already proved his ability to lighten the mood, distract you from worry. I'd be fine.

I rolled my eyes as I leapt from the steps to the grass. I wouldn't be fine until I was out of here.

"Change your mind?" Derek asked as I rushed to match his pace and enter the woods. I glanced at his face, met his knowing eyes, and snorted.

"Something like that," I chuckled, looking over my shoulder at the house. The trees swallowed us from view.

---

"Do you want to try?"

"Not yet."

"You should, it'll settle your nerves--"

I snorted. "Yeah, sure, finding out that my aunt may be dead because she risked her life to save mine will _totally_ settle my nerves, absolutely. It couldn't _possibly_ make me feel even more guilty about traipsing around in the woods or hiding in a safe house when I should be going to help her. Of course, Derek, you're so right."

Instead of shrugging or pointing out that checking would give me a clue as to what to do next, Derek gave a short, rumbling chuckle. "What are you laughing at?" I asked, exasperated.

"Nothing."

"Tell me, or I'll get Liz to come here and throw a branch at your head."

He rolled his eyes, knowing it was an empty threat. We were stepping over a cropping of rocks, taking what must be the path of most resistance through the forest. Just as before, Derek would occasionally stop and listen, this time making sure we stayed near the edge of the forest. He was scoping out the possible getaway routes, but all I saw was trees. "It'll just make you more upset."

"You are so difficult."

He stopped, his mouth twitching, almost laughing but not quite. "The only time you manage to get out a long winded speech without stuttering is when you're yelling at me."

I shifted slightly in the weeds that coated the forest floor, not sure whether to laugh at the absurdity or roll my eyes at the veiled jab. I went with sarcasm, the middle ground. "Now if I could only apply this to the rest of my long winded speeches. Then I'd be in business."

"Or politics," he joked, taking up our hike again.

"Where are we?" I asked, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. "Where's the house?"

He pointed over his shoulder, behind us and to the west. "Not far, unfortunately."

"Something wrong?" I asked. He slowed as I tried getting through some thick underbrush that he had simply stepped over. After watching me struggle, he grabbed my hand to steady me, and I made it through. "Thanks."

He muttered a gruff "you're welcome" and dropped my hand. Then, "What was the question?"

"What's wrong? You know why I'm going crazy, so what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Your mind must be really interesting," I remarked. "On one side, science experiments involving decaying flesh and survival tips galore, and on the other, a barren wasteland of Nothing." He met my eyes, laughing slightly again. "Seriously. What's wrong?"

"Like I said, it's nothing. Just..." He ran a hand through his hair, which had dried to a mess during our hike. A moment of blind finger-combing and he huffed, stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Just restless. We've been running for days. Hard to snap out of the instinct."

"Like slamming on the brakes," I said. He nodded. "What are we going to do?"

He didn't answer for awhile, then drew the words out slowly, as if it annoyed him to say it out loud. "I don't know."

"I can't stay cooped up in that house forever," I said. Anything to keep him talking. If it helped me to admit these things, it would probably help him too. "I'll go crazy. For real this time."

He snorted. "I can't either."

"Where'd you run?" I asked. "This morning?"

He gestured to the ground. "Same path." I couldn't help wondering what 'path' he was talking about -- the trees weren't thin anywhere -- but didn't say anything. "Just getting a closer look now."

"What for?"

He slowed again, and eventually we stopped. "See that tree?" he asked, pointing to his right, into the distance.

"Which one?" I asked. He sighed. He stepped behind me, leaned close to my face, and pointed. I ignored the faint smell of sweat, which actually surprised me. It was _faint_. For once, I could actually smell the soap over his sweat. "See?"

I could see. It was an oak or something like it, spreading out into four or five branches, one of which bent back towards the earth and curved up again, like a rollercoaster track. It was very distinctive amidst the other tall, straight trees.

"Markers," he said. "Better to know these woods if we have to run from guns again. It'll give us an advantage... Speaking of guns, how's your arm?"

I rolled up my sleeve, wondering myself about yesterday's bullet graze. Before we went to 'sleep,' Andrew had cleaned it up with some peroxide, and changed the bandages on my stitches to cover both. I pulled the gauze down slightly, studying the wound, but I honestly didn't know anything about bullet grazes, only that they stung. Bad.

Derek took my arm and inspected it, his grip light. "Does it look okay?" I asked, frowning.

"Yeah, should be fine. Does it hurt at all? Itch?" When I stared up at him in confusion, he clarified. "I'm just making sure there's no infection."

"Oh. No, no itching. The muscle's sore, but I guess it's just from the blow, you know?"

"Most likely," he agreed, setting my bandage back into place. He smoothed it with his fingers, getting rid of the ripples I'd stretch into it as best he could, then let me roll my sleeve back into place. "You should head back," he said, staring at my arm.

"I doubt I'm going to get shot again."

"True, but Andrew's right. Can't risk it."

My annoyance flared again, and I understood the look Andrew had given him that morning. It hadn't been annoyance, it was worry. Worry over Derek's mind. He was out here risking himself to play guard dog, literally. If it was dangerous for me, it was just as dangerous for him. "You aren't indestructible either." He didn't move. "If I have to go in, so do you. I've seen you Change, and there was no bulletproof vest involved, before or after."

"You've got people to take care of," he muttered. He stepped away, nodded towards the house. "Go on."

"Simon needs you," I pointed out, not moving. "We all need you. Stop acting like you're expendable. You're not a martyr."

"I'm not trying to be," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He jaw muscles twitched as he glared at me. "I'm keeping an eye on what I can."

"You are acting like a martyr. What was with that signal yesterday? You could've been subtle and gotten us all out, but you had to whistle the gunslingers straight to you--"

"I gave you your best shot of getting away," he said, eyes dark.

"Yeah, and I appreciate that," I said. And I did. "But you need to give yourself the best shot, too."

He rolled his eyes and turned, stomping on a plant as he headed back, probably trying to lure me back to the house. "Why bother?"

"We went over this," I said, grabbing his shoulder and glowering into his green eyes. "You're not a monster or a villain. But that doesn't mean you're an extra either."

He stared at me, not blinking, "So what am I? What do they call my character in the movies, Chloe? Not exactly leading guy material here."

"But you are the leader," I murmured. "We all can take care of ourselves, but..." My voice crackled, but I cleared it and plowed on. "But you can think when we can't. You always have an idea, even if it's stupid and risks your life." I let go of his arm, fidgeted, then started picking at my nails. The woods seemed a lot quieter than before. I met his gaze again. "You want to help. You even went back for Tori. That's something, isn't it? If Tori isn't expendable--"

"She is," he grumbled.

"But she wasn't," I said, glaring again. "Not then. If Tori is sticking around, you are too. Got it? If you hadn't found her last night, Simon would've wanted you to come back, and so would I. I don't want her to get hurt, but if it's you or her..." I trailed off, mentally cursing my pink cheeks. "You said it would be okay. Don't you believe that? Or is it just going to turn out okay for me and Simon? Clarify that for me."

My eyes searched his face, looking for any defiance or submission, but he just looked... sad. The buzzing something in my head was starting up again, this time with an edge of concern. "Derek?"

"You... and Simon... will be okay," he murmured. "I can't promise that for myself. But two out of three isn't bad."

"Stop talking like that!" I exploded, actually rousing surprise from his face. I raised my hand as if to slap him, but thought better of it -- as if I could take him -- and settled on words, something I was clearly more experienced in using. "Promise you'll try your hardest to make it out of this. Not just Simon, or me, but you too. Promise me."

"I can't do that."

I wanted to scream. How could someone so determined still have so much defeat left in him? But I already had the answer. The only thing keeping me from being defeated was the hope that Aunt Lauren was still alive, that Rae was okay, that one day I'd see my dad again. I had something to keep going for, a goal in mind. Once Derek got Simon and I through this... what then?

That's what he was thinking about. What comes next? Once we weren't running or fighting anymore, what did Derek have to go back to? Simon could get back to his life, and I could get back to mine, but Derek was far from popular or part of a crowd. He was a loner. He didn't have to make promises to anyone unless it was for their own good. He didn't fit anywhere, why bother trying?

"That's not true," I said, still locked in his gaze.

"It is," he said, misinterpreting me. "I can't promise it. You two come first. That's that."

"But Simon _wouldn't_ be okay if something happened to you. Neither would I. How does that fit into your calculations?"

"Chloe, is this about me, or Simon, or you? Because I can't tell anymore."

"You." It was the truth, and I didn't mind saying it. But it was still only half of the truth. "And... and me. If you d-didn't... If there was some s-sort of accident..."

"It wouldn't be your fault."

"It wouldn't be y-yours either. You don't deserve it."

We'd been standing centimeters apart, the early morning sun casting leafy shadows on our faces, and I had to tilt my head almost to the vertical to look at him. His skin was almost entirely clear now, and his eyes were so intently focused on mine that I wanted to look away. At the same time, I couldn't. I was winning, I could feel it. I wouldn't back down now. I'd never back down on this point, because I was right, and somewhere in there, he knew it too.

"You don't deserve it," I repeated in a whisper, firm. My hand rose involuntarily to straighten the wrinkle in his sweatshirt, my cheeks heating up as I did so, my heartbeat thumping in my ears, but I didn't pull away. His hand wrapped around mine, and I felt the space between us closing. My heart found a way to drum faster.

So he wasn't leading guy material. So what? There's more to a character than good looks and swarthy acting skills. When we'd been accused of fooling around in the crawl space, I'd felt horrible for denying it, even though I had every right to, every reason to.

Then he hesitated, most likely remembering the same thing, and I decided I'd had enough. I wanted him to do it, not out of pity or distress. I'm not a damsel, I'm the heroine, and I should be able to kiss whoever I want. Underdog included. I had every reason to. I leaned up -- almost on tiptoe -- and pressed my lips to his. A second passed, and he leaned into it, kissing me back. A small part of my brain was screaming very girlish things, _Oh my god! My first kiss! Am I even doing this right? _But the rest of me was just soaking up the sensations. His lips on mine, his hair brushing against my forehead, his thumb on the pulse point of my wrist...

He pulled away, and my girlish side ambushed my senses. _You just had your first kiss! With Derek!_ My head was spinning, but mostly with a breeze of happiness. I'd won. He didn't say it, but I won. I fought the urge to start gloating, or do a victory dance--

"I don't deserve a lot of things," he said, but his tone said it all. It was practically the white flag of surrender.

"That's crap." But my eyes were crinkled in amusement.

"Maybe."

"It is."

He mouth quirked into a smile, one of the rare few, and I was red in the cheeks again as I smiled back. Still trying to hold his ground, even when he'd lost it.

I glanced down. Our hands were still together, and the gentle rubbing of his thumb reminded me of being cornered in the park by the other werewolves. I hadn't noticed it much then, but I noticed it now, and it was more calming than any good night's sleep. My breath flew out in a contented sigh.

"DEREK? CHLOE? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Even I, with my dull human hearing, heard that. Derek winced, swearing as he glanced over his shoulder. "Andrew," he said, though he didn't have to. "Simon's with him, trying to stall... We have to go back."

"We?" I asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

He rolled his eyes, and a laugh passed my lips. "Yeah, we. Better?"

"Much."

His mouth twitched, almost smiling again. "C'mon. If Andrew doesn't kill us, we still have to deal with the Edison Group." His eyes had darkened all over again, and the frown reappeared.

I mimicked his expression, trying to lighten the mood. "No distractions for Derek Souza."

"Nope." He started to walk away, but turned back mid-step. My eyes widened in shock as he hovered over my face again and said, "Maybe just one distraction."

My second kiss was promptly interrupted by Andrew screaming into the woods. "IF YOU'RE NOT IN MY SIGHT IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES, I WON'T LET YOU BACK IN AT ALL!"

Derek pulled away again, looking beyond annoyed. "He's kidding." He lead the way out of the woods, my hand still in his.

"I'M NOT KIDDING!"

We both snorted, coming into the house's clearing, close to the front door. Andrew was nowhere in sight, probably still near the back. "Think if we sneak in through the front, and lie really well, he'll believe we were just exploring the house?"

"Doubt it," he said. We glanced at each other, a quick exchange of understanding, and bolted for the front door.

Hey, it was worth a shot.

---

**A/N**: One of the things I just love about the Chloe/Derek relationship is that they argue. Sorry to break it to those of you who think otherwise, but there is no such thing as a conflict-free relationship. So if you have to argue, argue like Chloe and Derek, about the important things. And if you still want to be sunshine and lollipops, we don't have to call it an argument: we can call it a 'discussion'. Lol.

Anyway, I tried very hard to keep the two of them in character, as well as Simon, Tori, and Andrew (to an extent; we don't know much about him anyway, right? Lol). But since we don't really know how Derek might handle a situation like that, I let Chloe make the move. Too much? Too little? Any opinions on the characterization would be great.

Hell, any opinions/critiques on any of it would be great. So why don't you take a second and review? Pretty please? ;)

Thanks for reading! - C

**PS**: Oh yeah, Fun Fact! Did anyone notice that the name Derek actually means 'people leader'? I found that out a few years ago when I was researching names for a story, and just found it ironic as I was reading the series. Lol.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer**__: Insert witty way to disclaim ownership of Darkest Powers, which is the property of Kelley Armstrong. Who I clearly am not._

**A/N**: Hey! Thanks to everybody who reviewed! I replied to the ones I could (which was all but two or three I believe) saying thanks already, but I wanted to say it again. The reviews gave me the guts to keep going, and I like to give credit where its due. :)

For those of you who don't know this story: Underdog was originally intended as a oneshot. I wrote it out of boredom and loved it, so when I posted, I said I might continue, if I got an idea or some inspiration. When a lot of reviewers said I should continue, and I couldn't get the characters out of my head, I decided I had to. Besides, it was just so much fun to begin with. :)

It actually took me a while to figure out how to continue. I don't believe in a story without conflict, and it looked like the conflict between Chloe and Derek was pretty much resolved. I left a few strands open-ended, just in case I did come back to it, but most of them would take several chapters to really flesh out, and I unfortunately don't have the time for it. Between my original stories, my new job (which I started this week), and studying for my exams, I only have so much extra time to devote to fanfiction. So it had to be short, one or two extra chapters at the most.

I went with the most immediate question that I knew I could tackle within two chapters: Simon. What would he have to say about Derek and Chloe acting a little... off? And how would Derek and Chloe act to begin with? This was my best guess, and I wrote it mostly the night before my first day of work, lol.

Point is, this can be read as the original oneshot (the first chapter only) or the larger three-shot. I hope you enjoy it either way.

As always: enjoy or destroy! - Chrissa

---

**Underdog**  
_by Bewitching_

Chapter Two

---

Andrew was storming through the back door just as we came in the front, and thanks to the floor plan of the house, he couldn't see us. I looked at Derek, pointed to the stairs, and he nodded. We were halfway up the creaking steps when Andrew finally caught us.

"Where have you two been?" he said, the voice banging up and down the stairwell like a church bell. We turned to face him, my cheeks going instantly red. This was why I didn't want to be an actress. This was why I had to be behind the camera, directing the lie, not actually playing it out--

"Basement," Derek said easily. "Looking around."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" It was the same look we got after falling out of the crawl space at Lyle House. Only this time, it was a lot closer to the truth.

Derek shrugged. "We needed something to do. We've been running for days--"

"But you haven't been running today. Why do you look so winded?"

My blush was so deep I felt like the blood made my brain slosh around in my skull. Derek glanced at me, his expression grim. He turned back to Andrew, and I was sure he was going to fess up, of course he would, but how much would he tell? Oh my god, that was not a story I wanted an almost-total-stranger to hear.

"Chloe-- She saw a ghost when we were downstairs. She freaked out, ran up the stairs."

Jesus, Derek, could you give a girl a warning?

"Is that true, Chloe?" Andrew asked. I twitched at being addressed, but that was my cue.

"Y-yeah," I said, staring holes into my shoes. Well, good-bye Hollywood.

Andrew was quiet, watching us, and I almost spilled the beans under his x-ray gaze. He didn't buy it, but there was a touch of relief in his deep breaths, and he felt a lot less like a stranger to me. He kinda reminded me of Dad.

"Stay upstairs," he said, and turned back into the kitchen. Yeah. That was almost exactly like Dad.

My breath flew out of my lungs as if someone had stomped on them, and Derek snorted. "You're a horrible liar," he muttered, heading back up the steps. My legs wobbled as I followed up and into the hall.

"You're a natural for someone who's usually so blunt," I retorted. He snickered again. He had opened his mouth to say something when the bathroom door burst open, a growl of frustration coming from Tori, her hair in a towel turban on top of her head. The towel looked old, and her clothes were still dirty, but the grime was off of her face, at least.

Her eyes flashed on mine as we stared at her. "You used up all the hot water," she said. "Thanks a lot."

"Technically," I said, irritated and edgy already, "there was no hot water when I got in the shower."

"My fault," Derek said, without the least bit of regret. Tori held a finger to his face, about to yell or sneer or whatever an angry, cold Tori might do, but he raised his eyebrows. What are you going to do about it?

She wilted, slowly, her arm falling back to her side. I thought she was going to back down, but her mouth twisted into a smile. "Don't do it again," she said, almost pleasantly.

I picked up on the threat almost as fast as he did, my "Quit it, Tori," muffled by Derek's "What's stopping me?"

Her eyes angled to the bathroom and back again. "There's a nice view of the backyard from the bathroom window, and the forest... I think I saw a dog running around out there." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Maybe a defenseless rabbit, too. Andrew might want to hear about that."

The stare-down was enough to have my last bit of patience fly away. I snatched Derek's sleeve, "C'mon. You're in Her Royal Highness's way."

Tori was humming to herself as she ducked around me and descended the staircase.

"Shoulda left her," Derek grumbled, staring over his shoulder at her retreating form.

"Let it go."

"Let's let her go. The Edison Group can have her."

"Stop it."

He glanced at me from under his lank bangs, frustration obvious and the first thread of an argument on his lips. He chewed it instead, shoved his hands in his pockets and muttering something akin to, "fine."

"Thank you," I said, and we picked up our walk down the hall. "You're being so mature about this. I think you're growing, Derek."

"Clever," he rumbled, grabbing one of the many door knobs and ducking inside what I assumed was his room.

I paused just beyond the door, half-wondering if I should follow, when Simon bounded up the stairs. "Chloe!" he stage-whispered. "Where's Derek? Andrew said he banished you both up here. Where were you?"

I flushed again, this time at the look on his face. Conspiratorial, smirky... and definitely flirty.

It's funny how kissing a boy can make flirting so much more obvious. And uncomfortable.

I didn't know what to say, what Derek would rather have me tell him, so I took the safest route even though my embarrassment was shining through like a lighthouse in a fog. "H-he invited me along, so I--" I fumbled through a quick explanation of scoping out the edge of the woods, stuttering and stumbling through it almost as much as I had when I'd been out in that underbrush.

He frowned, the bridge of his nose crinkled as he looked at me. "Something wrong?"

"No! I mean, well, yeah, Andrew looked pretty ticked off--"

"He won't stay mad for long. Something's up. Did you find anything out there?"

"Nothing interesting," I said, while a voice in the back of my head, clearly betting on my demise, said, _Only your brother's lips_.

"Are you sure?" His hand flexed, as if to reach for mine.

A huge piece of me wanted to tell Simon what had happened, friend to friend. I couldn't tell Tori, and Liz was nowhere to be seen, but Simon and I... Was that too presumptuous? To think Simon and I were headed somewhere beyond just friends?

Then again, wasn't it presumptuous to think Derek and I were headed that way? It _was_ only a kiss.

_Two kisses_, I corrected, almost smug.

But did they mean anything?

Simon was waiting for an answer. "Yeah, I'm sure," I said, and his frown lessened somewhat. Trouble was, I wasn't sure about anything just now.

"So where's Derek?" he asked, upbeat again. He seemed restless too, and part of me wondered why he wasn't on the verge of sneaking out himself.

"Here," said the guy in question, joining us in the hall. He wore a different shirt, probably to let the other air out. I caught myself looking and turned my eyes to his, but he was watching Simon, his expression completely guarded. Guarded from me or from Simon, I had no idea, but I instantly regretted saying anything. Was I supposed to tell him?

"Better?" Simon asked.

"Yeah. How'd you lose him?"

Simon rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall in exasperation. "Tori, what else? She threw a tantrum about the lack of 'decent entertainment', and came up here to shower, I guess. After that Andrew and I were talking about what happened when the Edisons made a surprise visit at his place, until he noticed he hadn't seen either of you in almost an hour. He called and you didn't answer, so he figured you guys took off... Which you had. Gotta give him some credit." He smiled, enjoying the normality of something as juvenile as sneaking out.

"He's not an idiot," Derek agreed, though not as amused. He rolled his shoulders, almost elbowing a hole in the wall. "I don't know how long I can take house arrest."

"Why don't you just explain it to him?" I said, watching him squirm, tiny movements of unrest. "You need to be sure we're safe--"

"Not a good idea," he said. He kept his eyes on the wall across from him, just above Simon's head.

"Why not?"

Simon saved Derek from explaining. "Last time Andrew saw Derek, things were..."

"Different?"

"Vastly," Simon said, chuckling as his brother gave him a look of disdain. I let a small smile cross my face.

"But what's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm dangerous," Derek muttered. Then he looked at me, something passing over his features so fast that I felt like I had whiplash. I stared back at him, confused, and then his eyes were back on the wall again.

Simon paused, catching all this. But then he plowed on, "You're not dangerous. I can vouch for that. And so can Chloe. We'll back you up."

"Definitely," I agreed.

"You won't have to. I'm not bringing up anything." Derek was already escaping into his room, but this time Simon followed, snatching my hand and dragging me in with him. I was sitting on Simon's bed before I could think, and Derek was standing with the backs of his knees against his, about five feet away. He gave me another one of those looks, and the confusion in my head only strengthened.

Simon was still holding my hand, and it felt all wrong. I slipped out of his grasp, and he went on, brushing it off.

"You can't keep sneaking off," he pointed out to Derek. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, grinning. "There's only so many ways I can distract Andrew without tying him up and throwing him in a closet."

"And Tori knows," I added as Derek flopped onto his mattress, the old frame whining in protest. He groaned at that, his hands massaging his eyes.

"She does?" Simon asked.

"Yeah, she saw us from the bathroom window." I explained the situation, and Simon huffed as he too threw himself onto his bed. "I doubt she'll keep that quiet in exchange for first dibs on hot water."

"Shoulda left her," Derek repeated, this time in an I-told-you-so ingrained in the words.

"You're too hard on her," I countered. Derek shrugged.

"Point is," Simon said loudly, claiming our attention, "you can maybe get away with it one more time. Twice, if you get in before he notices you're gone. But after that, Andrew's going to get ticked, lock you up and watch you like a hawk."

I couldn't help the snort that escaped. The image was just too good. The big bad wolf, tied up and glaring in annoyance at the well-meaning disciplinarian hawk. Derek reached behind his head, grabbed a pillow, and chucked it in my direction. It swiped me from above, messing my hair and turning the snort into a full-out laugh. His mouth twitched, an almost-smile, and I got ready to aim--

"What is up with you two?" Simon said. We looked at him, and his face was the picture of confusion, like he'd just seen a dog and a cat playing checkers.

Derek focused on the ceiling, and I shrugged, tossing the pillow behind him instead of lobbing it at his face. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

Simon made a humming noise in the back of his throat, and I felt the blush rise in my cheeks.

Derek broke the silence, clearing his throat. "I'll sneak out at night," he said, ending the discussion.

We sat there in silence for a century before I rolled my eyes. "This is so stupid. We're supposed to be safe, so why do I feel like I'm back in the lab?"

"We're all paranoid," Simon said.

"But we're in the clear for now, right? If they had followed us from Andrew's, why didn't they just ambush us when we were sleeping?"

"Maybe it's a siege. You know, when the bad guys block everything getting in and out of a town, so the people have to surrender?"

"They shot Chloe," Derek said, ignoring me when I complained. "I don't think they're going for a psychological attack."

"Well, Andrew is on our side, isn't he? Wouldn't it be better to keep him in the loop?" Plus, I felt like crap lying to a guy who was just trying to keep us safe.

"Did you see the looks he's been giving me?" Derek sat up now, his eyes focused on mine again, asking me to understand. "He doesn't know what I can do, and it scares him."

"He doesn't know what any of us can do."

He snorted. "I think I'm the most obvious threat, Chloe."

"You're not a threat--"

"Okay, something is going on." Simon was back up, too, and the idea that they were so in sync distracted me as he went on. "First you're moody, then you're laughing, and then you're arguing. Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I-I--"

"Leave her alone, Simon," Derek mumbled, still avoiding making eye contact.

"And now you're defending her?" Simon wasn't angry, just extremely confused. I didn't blame him, but that didn't mean I was going to just blurt out the truth. Yes Simon! We are hiding something! I kissed your brother! He kissed me back, and it was a very good kiss, if I'm any judge, and I wouldn't mind doing it again in the very near future, if only I knew you wouldn't hate us because of it.

Cue the dramatic soap opera music. My inner critic nearly vomited.

The door opened: Andrew, his face less angry but still grumpy enough to audition for one of the Seven Dwarves, leaned into the room. "Good. The gang's all here." He was aiming for friendly, but his agitation seeped into the room like he was a leaking septic tank. "Come downstairs. If we're going to be staying here for awhile, we should clean this place up." And then he was gone.

"Ooh, house cleaning," Simon said. Then he looked at Derek. "Aren't you going to sing or something? Get the furry little animals to come help you dust?"

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up." This time, when he threw the pillow, he aimed right for the face.

I ducked out of the room to avoid the bombardment of pillows, muttering to myself about boys.

I sighed. Boys were definitely a problem right now.

---

That night, after about four hours of sleep, I woke up again. It was instantaneous, my eyes popping open, adjusting to the dark and seeing Tori's cocooned form beneath the covers of her bed. After a minute, my eyes started tearing and I had to blink.

Why, after so many days of not sleeping, was it so hard for me to be comfortable in a bed?

_Maybe because your aunt is sleeping in a cell, or a padded room. Maybe because she might never wake up._

I was just about to throw the covers off when I heard the creaking footsteps from down the hall. Clearly not a ghost, but definitely somebody. They were too heavy to be Simon, so it was either Derek or Andrew.

To be honest, I didn't want to run into either of them.

All through the living room's scrubbing -- which I guessed was the only punishment Andrew could come up with that could be justified as necessary work -- Derek ignored me. If I came to his side of the room, he moved to the other. If Simon came near, he left us alone. If Andrew gave us something to do together, he wouldn't say a word.

_I'm dangerous_, he said. It was so cliché, the old it's-not-you-it's-me thing. I wanted to slap him, but that was even more cliché, so I settled on following his example: the silent treatment. Two can play at that.

Well, two can play, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy the game. The cold shoulder had frozen most of the other thoughts in my mind, forcing me to focus on the absence of him, the proximity of him, and even the mumbled attempts at conversation with Simon, which were all along the lines of, "So... what are you doing?" I was so busy trying to figure him out that instead of mopping the wood floor in the hall, I was mopping the carpet.

Honestly? It felt wrong, like going out in the snow without a parka. Kissing him was one surprising step forward, and the aftermath was ten gigantic strides back. Why were we shifting into reverse anyway?

Simon chose to ignore it, probably because it was closer to his normal, and spent most of the time talking to me. About movies, which ones I liked best and which ones I wanted to see. We talked about the comic he was working on, and while all this was nice, it was just a distraction.

It made sense now. I didn't want a distraction. I wanted to spring Aunt Lauren and Rae. I wanted to find Simon and Derek's dad. I wanted to be able to go outside without worrying about bullets and tranquilizers. I wanted to breathe easy because I _could_, not because I was being talked into it.

Simon was great, and fun to talk to, but at the moment it felt like static on a radio, keeping me from tuning into what I really wanted to hear.

I snorted. I cleaned a living room when I should've been gathering a zombie army and storming Edison Group's headquarters like the better version of the Wicked Witch of the West. _Crawl, my zombie minions! Crawl, crawl!_

I sighed. My head seriously hurt.

The footsteps stopped outside my door, and I pulled my head out from under the blankets to listen. Soon enough, I heard it, a short _tap-tap_ on the frame. I crawled out of bed and opened it to find Derek, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in odd directions like he'd spent the past few hours tossing and turning.

He gestured for the stairs, and I frowned. He pointed again, and I crossed my arms. He rolled his eyes and mouthed the word "please." I sighed.

But I followed him downstairs and to the living room, out the front door and onto the porch. He didn't stop until he was at the very edge of the deck, the one farthest away from the bedrooms.

"I can't sleep," he said, keeping his voice low. We were standing just within the shadow of the awnings, hidden from the bright moonlight, casting stark shadows on his face. His eyes disappeared in the dark, and his cheeks looked hollow, reminding me of the skeleton that had been in my face just days before. I hid the shiver that crawled up my back from the memory.

"So you woke me up?"

"You weren't sleeping either," he said, raising an eyebrow, daring me to deny it. I shrugged.

"I got some sleep."

"Not enough."

"Never enough."

He raked his hand through his hair with a sigh, and I knew what was going to happen, but that didn't stop something from flaring in the pit of my stomach, making me tense. "Chloe, I--"

"Just get it over with," I sighed, leaning against the railing and wrapping my arms around myself. It wasn't too cold, but enough to pierce through my pajamas and make me shiver.

"Get what over with?"

"Your speech. Something along the lines of, 'Chloe, I made a big mistake and I never should have kissed you because Simon is better for you, and I'm too 'dangerous'"-- I made air quotes with my fingers --"and I find you frustrating to begin with.'"

He blinked, opened and closed his mouth, then looked out into the woods. I followed his gaze, unintentionally looking for markers, but it was dark and I didn't have werewolf super-senses. Nothing looked familiar.

"So we agree," he said, facing me again.

"Huh?"

"It was a mistake."

"Only if you actually find me that frustrating," I said. Insomnia was making me a little braver, probably the only good side-effect.

"No," he said. I stared at him. "Okay, yeah, you are frustrating, but not like--" He sighed, and focused on the woods again.

"Not like what?"

He turned back looking agitated. "Not like that, okay? Not that way." Then kept his eyes on mine, and despite myself, I felt that flaring disappear, my stomach and nerves starting to settle. Then he switched back and it started all over again. "Look, I'm not good at this stuff. It's Simon's department."

"Lots of things seem to be his department," I remarked. You can learn defense from Simon, Chloe. Go sit with Simon, Chloe. Run away with Simon, Chloe. You know he likes you, Chloe.

"Exactly. So--"

He could try and talk me into whatever he wanted, but that wouldn't work unless I understood _why_. "Do you like pushing me away, is that it?" I asked. "Or is this your way of trying to tell me something?"

"What are you talking about?"

I huffed, taking a few steps forward so I could actually see his face in the dim light. I drew on my last bits of sleepless courage to say it out loud. "I kissed you, okay? Because I wanted to. I wasn't looking for anything, and I wasn't just trying to make you, I don't know, feel better. I did it because I wanted to. I wanted to kiss _you_."

He didn't move. For a split second, he was replaced with a statue. "What's your point?" he grumbled, quieter.

"If I liked Simon, I'd go kiss him," I said, matching his volume... Then getting irritated. "It's not like I haven't had the opportunity, with you shoving us together every five seconds--"

"He's better for you."

I paused. That didn't seem to fit his expression, and I narrowed my eyes. "Let me take a page from your book. Is this about me, him, or you?"

He didn't answer, and my annoyance that he _had_ an answer couldn't have been clearer in broad daylight. I squashed down the little voice that kept commenting on his eyes, the only thing giving him away. He was hiding something.

"Let's go through the scenarios," I said. "If this is about me, you're being stupid, because you can't force me into liking your brother anymore than I already do. And that's..." I sighed, having come to the conclusion already, but not wanting to announce it to the world. "That's just as friends."

He didn't say anything, just watched me, and I felt my nerves being replaced in small doses by optimism.

"If this is about him, I understand it a little better. He's your best friend." He grunted in acknowledgement. "But it's only going to hurt him more when he figures it out. And he will figure it out, even if I have to tell him myself. You don't give him enough credit.

"But if this is about you..." I shrugged. "I don't understand at all. Did I do something repulsive? Do you just not..."

_Do you just not like me that way? _It's what I wanted to say, but there was the little flame of rejection again, making camp in the back of my throat. I blinked it away, trying to focus, but there it was, right to the front of my attention. It roared through all my doubt and inexperience like sparks on a dry day, running me over like a semi.

Not even twenty-four hours after kissing a boy, I was, in essence, being dumped. _Good going, Chloe. Very smooth. As if you don't have enough problems._ The rejection was a lot worse than I'd guessed.

"It's not like that, you didn't do anything--"

"So what's the problem?" I asked, then cleared the wobbly quality out of my voice. Even as I knew what he was doing, I wanted to try, or at least find a good reason to stop. "Did Simon, like, call dibs or something? I'm not his property, I'm my own person. I can think for myself."

"I know," he sighed, fidgeting under my gaze.

"Then why are you going all dramatic and cryptic on me? Be blunt. Do you like me that way? Yes or n-mmph."

He was kissing me again, and my head went fuzzy. It was soft, slow, like he couldn't figure out a way to say everything on his mind. For anyone else that might be normal, but for Derek, it was the screenwriter hitting writer's block, a dead stop, and it was driving him crazy being unable to fix it. I didn't get any insight into his head, but I understood his frustration, and that combined with the feel of his lips was enough to make me kiss him back, matching him in my hesitance.

_Why does he have to be so freaking tall?_ I brushed the voice away, even though I agreed, and tentatively wrapped my arms around his neck for support, standing on my toes to reach. He leaned down further, his hands cupping my face, and I had to fight with myself to keep from smiling. The forest fire in my gut was reduced to cinders, and a new one sprung up in my chest, making it hard to breath, hard to think, and it was even harder to focus on. I had no idea what it meant, only that it was a different and undeniably better kind of warmth.

Eventually I cracked, grinning, and he slanted his mouth to meet mine again, almost smiling himself.

After a moment, I needed to breath. I fell back onto my feet, but he didn't back away. We stood there, breathing, hands still locked in place and foreheads almost touching. His thumb rubbed a slow path on my cheekbone, and I opened my eyes, hoping he knew what was going on. I still wasn't sure.

But he wasn't looking at me, his eyes were still closed, and the small grin was replaced with an equally small scowl. He was no doubt cursing himself out for doing that again, when that clearly hadn't been his plan.

My racing heart sounded like it was applauding his impulse, even though I wanted answers. "Derek?" It was the only question I could form.

He opened his eyes and I still wasn't sure what I saw, other than regret and determination. He was already stepping away from me, and I was no match for his intention.

"Sorry," he said, like it was for both of us instead of just me.

"Stupid thing to apologize for." Or was I imagining things?

The words seemed to spill out of his mouth like he was an actor who hated his role, just throwing out the script. "There's more important things to think about--"

"There is," I agreed, hoping to coax the explanation out of him. "So let's stop arguing about it, okay? Just tell me what's going on." I touched his arm, only to be shrugged away, his frustration getting the best of him.

"We can't do this," he said, a low growl at himself as he slid against the old house's siding.

This was different, not an impatient habit, but a guilt-ridden and confused thought process. It was watered down, locked away, like nearly everything about him, but to see him actually showing the stress... He kept his eyes on the ground, his palms to his temples, but would look out at the forest every second or so. Like we were being watched.

I didn't know what to do. I just stood there, the taste of him fresh on my lips, the chill on my skin that his warm hands left behind. I wasn't imagining things. There was something there, and his manner confirmed it, but why the denial? Was I not good enough? Did he want to save Simon the hurt? Was the timing bad?

Everything was building up in my head, fueling that flame of rejection, creating steam beneath my vocal cords. I was blurting it out before I could even process it. "Why are you doing this?" I said, my voice rising in frustration. "Why can't you make up your mind? You're driving me crazy."

"I can make up my mind," he said, the rueful edge speaking for itself.

"You told me it was a mistake, and then you did it again. Where's the sense in that?" I threw up my hands. "Maybe we are crazy. We want what we want when we want it, but guess what, I'm not going to play that game with you. Not today, not ever."

His head flew up and his jaw clenched. "I'm not playing games, I just--" He stopped, inhaling deeply, as if his lungs decided to take over for him.

"Listen, if you want me to take the blame for earlier, I will. I started it, and I don't regret it. But just now, _you_ kissed _me_." Derek was staring across the porch behind me, disbelieving. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, fuming. "Hello? Did you even hear me?"

"I did," said the smooth and quiet voice of Simon Bae.

---

**A/N**: Ooh, is that something of a cliffhanger? Lol. The conversation between Chloe and Derek was originally staged in the forest again, but it felt repetitive and didn't fit into my eventual idea. So I changed it to the porch, and it actually feels better to me, more private, even though they get walked in on, lol.

I tried as best I could to keep the flow of the original story, while still adding the newer elements. If you feel like reviewing (which you should! I give out cyber cookies!) then you maybe sorta could let me know if the pace was alright? I thrive on constructive criticism, lol.

Anyway, thanks for reading! The last chapter should be up by tomorrow afternoon, and then this is officially done. :) - Chrissa


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer**__: I don't own Chloe, Derek, Simon, Tori, Andrew, or the safe house. I don't even own the tree in this chapter; I borrowed it from my neighborhood park. I don't own any of it but the plot -- which pales in comparison to the real thing._

**A/N**: Here's the last chapter. I'm honestly surprised with it. I knew I was going from point A to point B, I just wasn't sure how smooth the going would be. The flow feels right to me, but you guys are the real judges. I hope you like it as much as I do. I haven't had so much fun in ages!

Thanks for reading! - Chrissa

---

**Underdog**  
_by Bewitching_

Chapter Three

---

I admit it. It was a total damsel-in-distress move, and I will never live it down. But Simon was staring at us, and Derek was stone-still, and I felt like I was the only one breathing anymore. I was back in the zombie movie, only this time the zombies weren't mine to control. They were foster brothers, my friends, all waiting on me to react. The kiss was out of the forest. Simon knew. Now what?

So I ducked around Simon and into the house, thudded up the stairs to the bathroom, and locked the door behind me. I only barely heard Andrew's door squeak open and him ask the darkened hallway, "What is going on out here? It's five in the morning!"

I didn't answer him, couldn't answer him. Simon and Derek were probably still staring, still _still_, while my own head was floundering for air. I glanced in the mirror, and my cheeks were bright red.

The sun was starting to rise as I sat on the toilet and looked out the window. Tori was right, there was a good view of the forest. Only this time, as I let myself be mesmerized by the morning light dancing between the leaves, I wasn't ready to go running anywhere. The forest was friendly, but in a jeering way, like it had tricked me into thinking it safe. The truth was is that there was no real way to find your way in it, unless you paid close attention. Far from ironically, it reminded me of Derek.

I switched rapidly to other things. For the time being, I did feel safe. The walk through the woods had convinced me of that. If anyone was coming to find us, Derek would know about it, and we'd find the best way out.

That is, if I was even worth keeping in the little band of genetically mutated freaks. Personally, I was beginning to think I was more trouble than I was worth.

It might've been one hour or four, but a hard rap on the door jarred me into the present. "Chloe? Are you in there?" Simon. I couldn't answer. Every drop of blood available to me was rushing to my face, and my muscles stopped working. "Chloe? Open up. Please?"

I was still sitting on the toilet when he picked his way in, probably by spell. He came in with a hand over his eyes. "Are you decent?"

I wasn't so sure of that anymore, but he was in the room now, covering my only escape. My voice was raspy when I replied. "Yeah."

He shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he dropped his hand, blinking in the sunrise glare. "Can we talk?"

I raised an eyebrow as I stared at the floor. "Unless I jump out the window, I don't have a choice. You're blocking my way out."

He stepped aside, leaning back over the tub, giving me space. "I'm not holding you hostage. You can go if you want."

I didn't move. I didn't want to have this conversation just yet, not when I didn't know what I wanted anymore. This was not the way Simon should've found out. Or was I being presumptuous again?

He straightened, and took a seat across from me on the edge of the tub. My eyes were inspecting my shoes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look like it," he said, with an amused twinge of sympathy. "Actually, you look like you want to puke."

"My vomit reflex is in perfect shape, Doctor. Thanks for your concern."

He chuckled, wringing his hands as we sat there. Part of me wondered what the problem was. Simon liked me, right? Why not give him a shot? He was looking at the floor now, thinking, so I let myself examine him. He looked tired. Not as tired as Derek or I, but thoroughly exhausted, and there was a rough edge to his movements, like he was forcing them out.

He was uncomfortable. I didn't blame him. He'd just found out the girl he maybe sorta liked had been kissing his brother. But Simon wasn't the type to hide away from a problem, so he'd sought me out and found me on a toilet looking close to spewing. I couldn't figure out a way to make it easier on him other than to say something.

"I'm sorry."

He looked at me like I'd sprung a leak in my brain. "About what?"

I raised an eyebrow. Simon Bae may not be in advanced trigonometry, but he's not an idiot.

He sighed. "Look, I did like you. I do, still," he added, and I flushed. That was the first time anyone ever said something remotely like that to me, and it made my heart do acrobatics despite who I wanted to hear it from.

I'll admit it. I liked Derek. I didn't know how much or how serious, but I liked him as more than a friend. And that was more than I liked Simon.

He went on. "But if you aren't interested--"

"I was," I said. He had to know at least that much. "But... I don't know. Priorities changed when I got to Lyle House... Or maybe after we left."

"Same here," he said. He glanced up at me, a short and meaningful smile on his lips. I blushed and looked away.

"You're a great guy, really, but..."

"But not what you're looking for."

I met his eyes again. He looked sad, but not heartbroken. He didn't know me well enough to be heartbroken. I didn't really expect him to be, I just expected him to be a little more... angry.

But that's the cliché from every movie, isn't it? Life isn't really like that.

"No. I guess not."

He nodded, sitting up. "Gave it my best shot," he said, smiling until he got a small laugh out of me. Then he sighed, looking slightly better, but something was still bothering him. Simon gave off vibes like that. Or maybe it was just in the fidgeting.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, brushing it off. I didn't think I had the right to pester him, but I didn't need to. He was spilling anyway. "It's just Derek."

My heart stopped. They were going to leave me behind. "What about him?"

He bit his lip. Then, leaning forward, he whispered, "Derek's insisting that we... you know, try."

I frowned. "Try what, dating?" He nodded. That damned campfire, it just would not go out. "That's not fair to me or you."

"Or him," Simon added in a quiet mumble. "That's what I told him." He muttered that to himself, annoyed that he was being given orders to date a girl who didn't want to date him. Then he laughed. "You know, you might be good for him."

"How come?"

He shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off his face. It was the I-know-all type of smile, the ones the best friend always gives the hero right before they cheer them up. I felt a tiny bit better, thinking Simon and I would be good friends. Maybe not best friends, but better than most. "Someone's got to convince him he's not a total monster, you know? He listens to you."

I snorted. "I think he hears me only when he needs me to do something."

Simon waved his hand, wiping the comment away almost like a Jedi would Force away a Storm Trooper's intentions. "He listens, trust me."

"How do you know?"

"It's not hard to understand him," he said, then as an afterthought, "Hard to get to know him, sure, but he's my brother. I barely had to guess. Every conversation we have has a mention of you." I felt my cheeks going slightly red again, and Simon pretended not to notice. "Okay, most of the time it makes sense, because we're in this situation," he gave, "But when we're talking about something else, like how we'll find Dad, he'll start talking about you and your dad's reward, how he's looking for you."

I wanted to believe Simon, but those could be explained away, and the flavor of rejection had me spewing out reasons. "That makes sense though, your dad and my dad. It's a related topic."

Simon actually smirked, weaving his fingers together slowly. "Not for Derek. He's not like that."

"So he talks about me. That doesn't prove anything."

Simon looked at me as if I was saying that the big yellow orb in the sky didn't prove the existence of the sun. "Derek is prone to forgetting a girl's name, Chloe. And he knows more than your name." He looked away at this, feeling awkward, but allowing me to think.

My gut was telling me that Derek felt something. Not in the crazy romantic comedy way, when people kiss and the world spins the right way or fireworks shoot off behind your eyelids. But I felt something when he kissed me, and it was something so simple that I didn't understand why I hadn't figured it out, or why he didn't want more of it.

When Derek kissed me, I felt comfortable.

Simon cleared his throat, speaking up. "He doesn't know what he's doing," he said, almost laughing, and I understood why. How often did Simon know something that Derek didn't? "He's new to it."

"So am I," I mumbled, and Simon, like any guy would, fidgeted again, and avoided going down that road.

"But he's a fast learner," he continued, clearing his throat.

I sent him a deadpan stare. "Sometimes, I seriously doubt that."

Simon laughed so loud the panes of the grimy window shook, distorting my vision of the forest, but somehow showing me what it really was. Just a forest.

One I was willing to navigate.

---

I went to my room and slept. Nobody woke me, not even Tori, who I guessed was still planning ways to use her knowledge to her advantage. I was out until half past noon, when Tori came in and shook me awake for lunch.

The five of us ate in silence, but Derek was sitting at the counter now, behind me. Halfway through my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I glanced at him. He averted his eyes.

Simon actually snorted.

Andrew wanted to keep us busy until he could arrange for his friends to visit, so we cleaned again. Tori and I did our room, and the boys did theirs. It was dark by the time we really finished, and dinner time. This time, Derek sat in the living room with his food, going over the few supernatural reference books Andrew kept in the study. When I finished dinner, he was gone, up the stairs and hiding in his room. He was in such a rush that he left his empty plate on the coffee table.

I took it back to the kitchen, and washed the dishes alone.

Whatever this was, I needed to talk to him about it at least once more. I deserved the explanation. It was stupid of me to think otherwise, and even stupider (if that's even a word) of him to deny me the right.

So I waited. I waited all night, after everyone went to bed, trying to fake sleeping noises in case he was listening. Eventually, I heard the creaking of the floorboards as he passed the door. Not his footsteps, which I'd _never_ really heard, but the little squeaks of complaint from the wood gave him away. I froze, barely breathing, hoping to catch him off guard. It wouldn't be easy.

As soon as I knew he was out of the house, I climbed out of bed and made my way to the forest.

It was dark. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood, only instead of escaping the wolf, I was searching him out. And I guess there is the slight hitch in the fact that I highly doubted Derek would dress up like my grandma, even if you paid him.

I fumbled in the general direction we had gone the other morning. I kept looking for markers, things Derek had paused to examine, but I couldn't see anything in the black blanket created by the forest's canopy. I started to panic, looking to my left, which I thought was the direction of the house.

But I was in deep enough that the clearing was out of sight.

I freaked, doing the first thing that came to mind: give the signal. I tried whistling, but I couldn't duplicate the piercing note of Derek's, so it didn't carry as far. But he'd hear me. I knew he would. It was too quiet for him not to, and I couldn't be that far off course.

A minute passed. Then five. Then ten.

Or maybe I could.

I whistled again as loud as I could muster, still fumbling through the trees, trying to keep it cool. My heart and stomach and lungs didn't seem to agree with that plan, because they were jostling around like my body was their own personal bounce house. The little light that did give me sight vanished with the moon behind a cloud, and I almost screamed, reminded of the crawl space, flailing my hands in the dark for anything to guide me.

Suddenly everything I was risking was crystal clear: What if the Edison Group was looking for me? What if Derek had already been caught, and that's why he wasn't coming? What if I never got out? What if they had night vision goggles and could shoot me right now? What if they left me out here to die?

_THWACK_.

I ran right into a tree, the branch catching me in the stomach, and fell flat on my butt. I was so stunned that I couldn't get up, almost hyperventilating in surprise.

Then the moon was back, the breeze that moved the clouds weaving its way through the forest and into my hair, as if to say it was only teasing. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, centering myself. Then I looked up at the offending tree.

_Thank god._ It was Derek's marker. The one with the rollercoaster branch, the leaves so thick and the branches so tall that it must be the oldest tree here.

I let out a sigh of relief, a crazed chuckle passing my lips with it. If this was one of the markers, then the house must be close.

Only, which way should I go now? I took a deep breath, feeling like an idiot. Derek was my best shot.

I whistled again. Nothing but my own breathing came back to my ears.

_Maybe he went back to bed. Maybe I didn't really hear him leave the house. Maybe he doesn't like me enough to find me in the woods._

Now _that_, while tempting to the unconfident part of my brain, didn't make sense. He'd rescue me from knife-wielding gang bangers and rogue werewolves, but not from a forest?

_That was before you kissed him. You changed everything._

Not true. Definitely not true, definitely not everything. I shook off the voice of doubt, knowing he wouldn't do that to me. Not if he really wanted me to be with Simon, anyway. "Derek!" I called, screwing the signal. If the Edison Group really was here, they'd find me anyway. "Derek!"

I imagined him stopping, swearing, following the noise. "Derek!" I scrambled up and sat on the branch, which fit like a swing, barely bending beneath my weight, actually holding me above my normal height. "I know you can hear me!" I shouted, pulling my knees to my chest, then letting them dangle, deciding it would be better if I was poised to run, just in case.

Should I keep talking? He'd need something in order to follow me, right? "I need to talk to you!" I said. "And... And I really would like to get away from these trees soon!"

Yeah, lame. But I was trying to survive, okay?

_Snap_. I flinched, whirling to my left, almost falling off the branch. I wasn't moving, so the noise wasn't mine to make. "Derek?" I blurted, quieter, nervous. Oh my god, I led them straight to me, they're coming after me, where should I hide?

I felt his presence like a ghost, only I knew it wasn't when he grabbed my arm, his hand very solid, and I screamed.

He clamped a hand over my mouth, fuming, eyes flashing daggers. "What the hell are you doing out here?" he said. "And why are you screaming? What happened to the signal? You could've given us all away!"

I fought for my heart as it tried to run away, scared to rocket ship speeds, and wrenched away from his hand. What was I doing out here again? Oh. "I-I was l-looking for you."

"Why? I sleep three doors down from you, I eat in the same house as you! Why didn't you just--"

"Is there ever a second when I can talk to you alone in there?" I said. "And you've been avoiding me!"

He ignored that, but lowered his voice to a more acceptable level of anger. "You could've gotten lost, or caught, or hurt yourself. You're lucky I heard you. Why couldn't you keep still? I've been following your trail and--"

"What trail? There _are no trails!_" That was made fairly obvious to me by the fact that _I. Got. Lost._

He rolled his eyes, but he was quiet again, sounding tired. "I meant… I meant your scent."

I blushed, feeling stupid. "Oh." In the absurdity, I vaguely wondered what I smelled like to him.

He swore again, giving me the once-over to make sure I hadn't hurt myself. It reminded me of hiding in the coffe shop bathroom, getting werewolf blood off my sleeves, only this time I wasn't sitting on a counter and he wasn't sporting a black eye anymore. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I insisted, "I mean, I did run pretty much headfirst into this tree, but I'm fine, really." He was just about to check my forehead for bruises when I grabbed his face, holding it between my palms. Thanks to the tree, I was almost at his eye level. He looked so shocked that he almost shook me off, swatted my hands away. "No," I said, testing out Simon's 'Derek Listens To Chloe' theory. "You have to talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, just come back to the house."

"No." He narrowed his eyes at me but didn't move, and I supposed he was thinking of the last time he got impatient with me. The finger marks on my arm were gone, and I knew why he did it now, but that was still something to settle between the two of us. He was trying in his own way and I wasn't making it easy for him.

He wasn't listening to me just to hear me. He was also trying to protect me.

I let go, fumbling for a way to word it all. "Derek, I--"

"It doesn't matter, okay? Let it go." It was an order, not a request, and then he pointed to his left, instructing me to move. "We're leaving. Now."

I gripped the tree, staying in place. "No."

"Now, Chloe."

"You'll just have to make me."

This wasn't working the way he hoped, apparently, and it showed when he brought his outstretched hand to the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Chloe, please."

I almost caved. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, which was more than likely true. But all I wanted was one thing, just the one, and then I'd leave him alone as long as he wanted. My stomach compressed in on itself at the thought, but it was a fair trade. I'd just have to live with it.

I sounded sad and tired when I finally spoke up. "I haven't gotten my explanation yet."

He was instantly sharp again, and I felt the irritation rise off of him like pavement heat. "There's nothing to explain."

If I didn't know any better I'd say he was being a coward. "Huh. And here I thought you owed me. You know, because I stopped Liam when you couldn't. And I stayed with you when you were Changing, both times. And I made sure your brother made it out of Lyle House. I guess that's not worth a few sentences or an apology, though. Sorry for being so stupid."

I was about to slip off the tree when he stepped in front of me, sighing. "Chloe?"

"What?"

"Wait."

I did. It wasn't another demand, and if the saying is true, I wanted him to at least realize that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Someone had to get something out of this.

He stared up at the tree for a full minute before I cleared my throat, prompting him. It was a hesitant start. "You wanted me to promise you something."

"I remember." Hard to forget what was going on during your first kiss. I involuntarily shifted my gaze to his lips, but then back to his eyes again, which still avoided mine.

"You wanted us all to make it out of this okay, right?"

"Yeah."

"I never promised you."

I frowned, not remembering it that way at all, losing my conviction as I blushed enough to be Rudolph the Red-Faced Girl. "I-I t-thought it was a…" I cleared my throat. "A physical agreement."

His eyes dropped down to my own lips, which I was chewing on to keep from saying anything stupid. Then he looked up at me. "I never actually said it. But I promise now. I'm making sure of that."

It didn't make any sense. "What do you mean? I've barely seen you, you've been hiding in your room. You haven't done anything."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"What are you trying to say, Derek?"

It was a wonder he and Simon weren't related by blood. Derek was giving me the same look Simon had that morning, like I was blind to the obvious, or I couldn't speak English. I could speak English, I just wasn't fluent in Derek yet. "I'm leaving you alone. It's better that way."

It was getting to the point where I needed a translator, fixing him with an unimpressed frown. "What's better about being given the cold shoulder?"

He growled again, looking around the forest like the trees might help him explain it better. "Don't you get it? I'm not trying to ignore you, I'm trying to keep my promise. What's so hard about that?"

"You're making me feel like crap, that's what!"

He laughed, breathless, unable to believe what he was hearing. "_I'm_ making _you_ feel like crap? Really. I doubt it's any worse than what you're doing to me--"

"I haven't done anything to you!"

"Chloe, you did everything!" He stepped away from the tree, giving me ample space to climb down, but I couldn't move. This was what I wanted, the uncensored truth, and I wasn't going anywhere until I knew he was done. "You had the guts to stand up to me. You helped me when you hated me. You weren't afraid of me. You convinced Simon to get out of Lyle when he couldn't find me. _You_ found me. You got off the bus, and you stayed when I was Changing. You had to make me promise you I'd be okay, because you actually give a damn." He laughed again, anger brimming around the edges, as if he couldn't fathom what he was saying, and yet he could. Then he faced me, talking so fast that he probably didn't even know what he was saying. "You kissed me. You got that stupid song stuck in my head. _You_ got stuck in my head. You made me feel halfway normal and then you made me crazy, because now I can't think straight when you're around. Simon was interested, not me, but now I want to punch him every time he looks at you. How is that rational? He's my brother, my best friend, but I'd rather be locked in a cell with Tori then let him be alone with you."

It was a role reversal, but I didn't even notice it when I asked him a question, pointing out the hole in his thoughts. "Then why do you want us together so badly?"

"Because as much as I want to practically strangle him every time he holds your hand, I'm not an idiot." Our eyes met, and I could see all the self-deprecating anger and frustration sitting right there on the surface. "He's better for you. When this is all over, Simon is the one who will take you on dates and show you off to his friends and call you every night. Simon is the one that doesn't have to worry about losing it, even for a second, because if I do, I might whip you across the room again. Simon is the one that doesn't have to constantly check himself to keep from hurting you. Simon _can't_ hurt you. I will, and I'm not willing to break my promise to you over something as screwed up as wanting you to myself."

The words echoed in my ears and his, and he was breathing like he hadn't in years. It was out there. This wasn't about him not wanting to hurt Simon. It was about not wanting to hurt _me_. How to keep from doing it was the question, and Simon was the answer, with an added dose of space between us for good measure. He was still struggling with the guilt of sending one guy to a wheelchair, a stranger and a threat, and if he let me become more important than that, how would he handle it if something just as bad happened? I didn't know, and I didn't want to find out, but something told me I wouldn't have to.

I still had another question. "Why is that screwed up?"

He blinked, shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Because."

No. Not today, Derek Souza. You are not clamming up on me today. "Because it wasn't the plan?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "I didn't exactly plan on this either you know, and you don't see me hiding in my room, hoping it'll go away--"

"No, because you being with a werewolf is as far away from 'okay' as it gets. It's not safe."

The words came back to me from yesterday as I shrunk under his hard gaze. _I'm dangerous_. I'd known the whole time.

My voice was so soft even I had trouble hearing it. "I'm with you right now. I'm fine. I was with you yesterday. And when we got separated from the others. Nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. That comes with the territory, don't you think? Being on the run the way we are? You won't hurt me, Derek. I trust you."

He stepped forward, using his arms to keep me pinned to the tree. He didn't touch me, just the branch on either side of my hips, but I was stuck unless I wanted to fall backwards into the dirt. Instead, I was leaning forward, listening to his aggravated whispers. "But how do you know? You don't. You can't know."

"Neither can you."

"I can guess."

I didn't miss a beat. "My guess is just as logical."

"Mine is the safer bet."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to find the crack in his resolve. I wasn't going to beat him at his own game, but I could compromise with him, find the middle ground… "I like you," I said, my expression still searching. "A lot. How much do you like me?"

He sighed. "A lot more than a little, okay?"

I bit back the smirk. Bingo. "Then chances are that one of us is going to crack and make a move on the other. If I did this"-- I touched my hand to his --"what would you do?"

He moved his hand out from under mine. The bark beneath my palm felt cold, almost jarring my focus away. We were still having a stare down, daring each other to prove us wrong.

I tried again. "If I did this, what would you do?" I moved my hand to his arm, letting my thumb rest just in the crook of his elbow. His sweatshirt was thin, but I might have been imagining the subtle upward hitch in his pulse.

His arm fell against his side, slowly, and he cleared his throat.

"This?" And then my hand was on his chest.

He didn't move.

"And what about this?" I didn't know where the bravery was coming from, but it surged into my hand and brought my fingertips to his cheek.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. I leaned forward, so close...

"Too close, Chloe." It was another whisper, another dare, another warning.

"What are you going to do about it?"

He tilted his head toward mine, hovering just beyond my reach, breathing so quietly he may have been sleeping. I closed my eyes. Then he exhaled, his breath warm on my lips, inching back. "I'm not the right guy."

I sighed. "That's what the underdog would say."

"What?"

"The underdog. The one everyone thinks is destined to lose, including himself." I opened my eyes, quiet, sad, remembering his question from yesterday. "That's what they'd call you in the movies. The underdog." I focused on his eyes. "I always root for the underdog."

He was a master of the expressionless response. "It's a long shot."

"Which makes it the most satisfying kind of victory when he wins." He was already opening his mouth to argue, but I stopped him, clamping my hand over his mouth like he had done to me a million times already, eyeing him with as serious and final a stare as I could. "You can stop hiding from me. I'll just find you again. I'm not going to run away from you. Because, believe it or not, out of all the places I could be right now, I want to stay right here, where I'm safest, and..." I faltered, swallowed the fear, and met his gaze again. "And wanted."

Finally, I found the crack. He softened, and I held my breath.

I decided it was true. We want what we want when we want it, and it could drive us crazy, but it wouldn't really stop us. Sometimes it didn't work out. Sometimes, you had to wait.

Sometimes, you had to fight for it.

I felt like I'd been waiting and fighting forever when he spoke, almost whispering. "Chloe?"

"Hmm?" I couldn't manage an actual word.

His hands were still on the tree, and he put just enough weight on them to lower the branch until I was almost at my normal height, seeing him from my usual angle instead of eye-to-eye. He looked down at me, very seriously, so much that my heartbeat almost drowned out what he was saying.

"I like you."

"I like you, too."

I watched the internal argument with himself from the outside, but I could hear his gears turning, the various scenarios that might come after admitting this. The pros had to outweigh the cons, the maybes, and even the likelys. I felt like I was going to drown in my own suspense. With all the things he was weighing against us, against me, was there even a chance that he'd let it happen? I thought of the last time we'd been near this tree, the thought I'd had: how could someone so determined have so much defeat in him? He kept closing the premiere before the tickets even went on sale.

And then, surprisingly, he gave me a choice. "What do you want to do about it?"

Oxygen felt foreign as I tried to think past that concentrated stare, snatching the answer out of the back of my mind. "I want you to give us a chance."

Another thoughtful moment of quiet, in which his hand rose to the side of my face, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Okay."

I struggled with the overpowering smile on my face, trying to tuck it away, act cool, don't blow it, just enjoy it, but he cracked too, donning a new smirk that I'd never seen before. I softened, and the smirk grew, enough that I understood it. Optimistic, confident, but most of all... comfortable. Comfortable with me, with telling me these things, with being himself around me. The same things I felt under his gaze. The things that outweighed all the rest.

I grabbed his wrist, holding it in place. "But I have to tell you something."

He frowned. "What?"

My whisper was mischievous. "If you ever call Daydream Believer a stupid song again, I will have Liz throwing everything she can get her hands on at your face until you take it back."

He paused. Then he rolled his eyes. But the smirk was definitely back. "Deal."

We met in the middle, my hands finding their way around his neck as his shifted to my waist, catching up on the last kiss, the one where the fire sat beneath my heart. And this one was ten times better, because we were alone, he wasn't hiding anything, and for once, I could read him perfectly, like a street sign, or a one line screenplay.

Potential.

I don't know how long we kissed before he finally broke the contact, listening intently to the forest around us.

"Time to go in?" I asked, centimeters away.

"They're up, I think. I can hear them."

"Then let's go before Andrew notices we're gone... Or Tori rats us out."

He nodded, picking me off the branch and setting me on the ground. This time, I kept hold of his hand, and he squeezed softly as he led me back through the winding trees and towards the house. The moon disappeared behind the clouds again, but his hand kept me steady in the dark. As the trees thinned, he rubbed his thumb across the top of my hand. I grinned. That alone would probably be enough to last me the whole night.

We stumbled out of the woods into the dark backyard, lit only by a stretching rectangle of light from one of the bedroom windows. Derek looked down at me with tired eyes. He swore.

"What?"

"The rat has spoken."

"Huh?"

But he never got a chance to explain. Just then, a bright flashlight beam landed on our faces. I cried out at the burning and covered my eyes, and Derek audibly winced, but out of all the noises, the ones that caught my ear most were Tori's quiet chuckle and Simon's answering, "shut up!"

The wielder of the flashlight turned it off and crossed his arms, but other than that, all I could see was a big purple-green spot where the light had been. "So, Derek," Andrew said, his voice angry enough to make me swear. "Are you satisfied with the perimeter?"

Derek blinked away his own blind spots, but managed a nod, sighing heavily against the inevitable.

"Good. I'm glad. Because none of you are going to be seeing it for a very, very, long time."

---

An hour later, the four of us climbed the stairs, Derek and I leading the way. Grounded. I couldn't believe it. Out of everything to happen to me, the most unbelievable thing was ending up grounded. Seriously? I just found out I'm a necromancer, and then I found out I'm a genetically modified necromancer. I escaped homicidal scientists, a gilded prison, bloodthirsty werewolves, and even Good Samaritans.

But now I couldn't even escape being grounded. Go figure.

Tori was whining as we came to the door that led to our bedroom. "I don't know why I got in trouble. I was just the informant. And now I'm paying for your stupidity."

Simon rolled his eyes. All four of us were grounded, stuck in our rooms except for meals and bathroom breaks. Derek and I were obviously grounded for sneaking out. Simon was for being an accomplice, and Tori for not saying anything sooner. "You're just mad you never got to sneak out either."

"Oh please," she told him, snorting, even as the small blush rose in her cheeks. She turned to me. "Chloe, whatever the hell you guys were doing out there, I hope it was worth it, because I am _not_ going to be a happy roommate--"

Before she could really start ranting, Derek grabbed my hand, spinning me towards him and planting a long, slow kiss on my lips. Tori made a retching sound, and Simon chuckled as he dropped his gaze to the floor, swerving around us and going on to his room.

Derek pulled away, looking better than ever with that new smirk on his face. "See you at lunch." And then he strode off down the hall after Simon, slipping into his room and shutting the door. I felt a slow smile creep onto my face.

Tori looked appalled. "What the hell, Chloe. Did he just kiss you?"

"I think he did." I cleared my throat, still staring at the door he'd disappeared behind. "And, to answer your earlier question," I looked at her and gave a friendly smile. "Yeah. It was totally worth it."

She was still staring as I ducked into our room, laughing to myself. With any luck, that would keep Tori quiet for the rest of the day.

THE END

---

**A/N**: Gah, that was so much fun! I do love a good verbal sparring, but was it too much? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Was the ending too mushy? Were the characters off? Anything you have to say is totally welcome in a review. I'm actually surprised I haven't gotten at least one flame. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to fall, lmao.

Anyway, thanks a TON to the people who reviewed, favorited, and read this story. I had a total blast writing it, and hearing all the opinions. You guys are way too nice to me, a newbie to the series and the fanfictions. I was just having fun, and you guys made me feel totally welcome, so thanks for that. :) Maybe when I have some more free time and after I've read The Reckoning, I'll come back and try something new. I've already got ideas, but who knows what will come of the next book? ^^,

Again, thank you, thank you, thank you. -begins passing out cyber cookies- Lmao.

Until next time! ;) - Chrissa


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